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M A Atherton c Parore b Cairns 11.

It may not sound much but those 132 minutes of vigilance transmitted a very important message to the England team and the thousands of English batsmen-bashers watching. After the Lord's debacle, with a new temporary captain and without Nasser Hussain's trenchant qualities, England needed a firm lead. Atherton, in his own indefatigable way, provided it.

Stubborn could be Atherton's middle name, he steadfastly refuses to give in to back pain or hostile bowling or indisputable evidence of an edge to the wicketkeeper (Allan Donald has forgiven Atherton his understandable stance in the Trent Bridge cauldron now that Atherton has offered the South African his offending glove for auction at his benefit).

His innings yesterday was a Test match collector's item. Of the 90 balls he faced, he scored off only five, a couple of quick singles, two neat clips on the leg side and a controlled thick edge through the slips for four.

He shrugged his shoulders at the vagaries of the pitch, which he hadn't expected to misbehave as much as it did, making a determined effort to play forward in spite of seeing colleagues struck on the body by lifting deliveries.

The way he adjusted to moving balls as if his bat were on a curtain rail, and rode extra bounce, were object lessons in bad-wicket batting. He knew run-scoring would be tough yesterday, but not as tough as it will be later in the match.

Above all, his innings was a study in concentration. Between deliveries he leaned on his bat, or absently prodded a crack or masticated in a distracted sort of way. He smiled wrily at the one or two New Zealand observations that came his way. But as soon as the bowler had begun his run-up, the eyes were peeled, the jaw stilled, the resistor switched on. At the crucial moment, his focus is unshakeable.

It is this quality that most reassures his team-mates and annoys opponents. They will try anything to unsettle him with words and deeds, but usually with little success. His obduracy on the field, and wicked sarcasm off it, invariably win.

The New Zealand bowlers matched his discipline yesterday and eventually got him out. Dion Nash has bowled in the last two games as well as he did before a back injury inhibited his promise in 1996.

Chris Cairns, restored to the role of front-line paceman after a period in utility wilderness, seems to have found a new lease of life. His Franklyn Stephenson-guided slower ball is a treasure of guile and deception.

There may have been only 108 runs in the day at less than two an over on a poor pitch, but the play was less a dull diet of blocking, more an intriguing battle of willpower, the outcome of which is impossible to predict.